


do you like the color red?

by closet_monster



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Porn With Plot, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25983280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/closet_monster/pseuds/closet_monster
Summary: Nesta's birthday should have been an uneventful day, but Cassian couldn't simply leave her alone. And a shameless man with a spiteful woman makes for a dangerous combination.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Comments: 11
Kudos: 138





	do you like the color red?

**Author's Note:**

> Ok let me explain myself.  
> Everybody asked about the solstice gift on the last fic and it gave me an idea that went back and forth for weeks until it came out. Come on. A woman can be forgiven for her sins. I've done worse these days that god will have to look over this and even then, it's not like I believe in this motherfucker either.  
> So. Go ahead and read this. I'll go put my face inside a hole and die on the meantime.

Nesta would have never described herself as vulgar or minimally audacious wherever sexuality was concerned. For one, her sisters and close friends were used to calling her a cold blooded prude - both her parents had died without a single hint of her ever even getting her first kiss, and that's considering she was about 23 when her father died. She had never been caught: not a single soul could trace a man back to her; though Nesta was by no means a virgin.

Or unfeeling.

But again, it's not like anyone else really knew that and she wasn't about to expose herself to prove them wrong. Let them talk - the teasing was getting old and she didn't really let herself succumb to it. They would probably tire themselves out sooner or later. She did not care about what they had to say.

Nevermind that bastard Cassian always sent her body aflame with rage whenever he had some snarky comment to make. It was either about her clothes, the way she spoke and carried herself, sometimes about the lack of romance in her life and - fucking bastard, always teasing her about sex.

_Have you been with a man before?_

_Wound a bit too tight, Nesta._

While giving her the most unnerving heated looks, flirting shamelessly, fucking winking and calling her names; the illyrian once had the audacity to send her the direct link to download Tinder - and then, a screenshot with his own profile. And though she had never deleted the screenshot, sometimes going over it for arousing material to get herself off; _how fucking dare he?_

Cassian and Nesta… Well, they hadn't started on the best terms. Feyre's bad relationship with her sister might have filled him with some prejudice beforehand, which definitely led them to a very uneasy start - especially when Nesta was _so quick to anger_ and took absolutely no shit from anyone. If he had hoped to rough the _mean sister_ up into her place, he had gotten one hell of a surprise when she kicked him back into his place instead. And thus started this insufferable game in between the two of them where they would push each other at their absolute limits, even though everyone involved knew that their _"anger"_ was sexual tension and nothing more.

Yes, Nesta would have loved to fuck him. Yes, she sometimes would fantasize about how things would go. Yes, she sometimes thought about him to get herself off - and yes, she also thought that he was awkwardly sweet and incredibly funny, but being capable of acknowledging any of those things didn't necessarily mean that she'd ever admit them to anyone else. Or act upon them.

And her birthday… She didn't even want to make it a thing. Nesta was convinced no one would remember, which would make things easier to follow through. Besides, the awful day took place in the middle of the week: a work day. And being an ER nurse, working insane hours and dealing with the worst humanity had to offer repeatedly into exhaustion - all Nesta wanted for her birthday was to get home, take a nice shower and have some food delivered to her place. She'd sit alone in silence, dwelling in the comfort of knowing that no one would be screaming her name to jump into another mess she couldn't always solve.

It was her birthday: Nesta rides the bus home with her beautiful face almost dripping with sweat and grime, her limbs awfully heavy and her bones aching as she's rocked back and forth on the road. It was her birthday: Nesta had hand-picked over two hundred cactus spines from a fratboy's chest, had removed a broken carrot from a man's anus, had pumped a teenager's stomach and also drained a poor soul's abdomen from it's pestilent ascites.

There was also that hectic moment in which they took in about ten rough-looking men after a gang fight went wrong downtown. And no - they weren't all from the same gang.

But her shift had ended: for fucks sake, she was coming home. Even though it was nearly 10pm and she would probably just collapse in bed before asking for food; too tired to even wash her hair or eat anything at all.

Still, it sounds too good to be true. Then, Nesta hears laughter coming from her apartment after dragging herself out of the elevator - and her blood pressure drops under command. She checks the floor again before going on and _yes,_ _of course,_ it _is_ the right place. Somehow, Feyre and Elain had snuck inside her apartment (even though neither of them had the keys), and judging by the additional noise, it wasn't hard to guess that they had brought their boyfriends and friends as well.

Of course her sisters hadn't sent her a single message all day, but would show up to disrupt her pitiful withering after such a rough shift.

Nesta didn't even have the strength to fake a smile when she came in - and dramatically winced when their insufferable cheers broke her eardrums and made her bones vibrate. She almost fell back, vision spotted by grey and green; her fucked up routine didn't leave much space to fix her iron deficiency. And even though they're all seemingly oblivious, no one misses the way Nesta really looks like she might fall down. Hell, Feyre even has the decency to look a little guilty as she prompts her to take a shower, holding her arm all the way - maybe they weren't _that_ oblivious.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart." Cassian grins when she sits down on the couch, tucking her wet hair behind her ear. "Like your surprise?"

It didn't take much guessing to figure her answer out, so she did keep quiet. Could be worse: at least, they had brought food - real homemade food, with meat, well seasoned rice and one hell of a salad. Elain had also baked her a little chocolate cake and Amren, that tiny asshole, was nice enough to bring some appetizers. And Cassian… Though everyone was drinking beer, he had brought a bottle of rum for her - Nesta's favorite drink. And while it did warm her heart and she thanked him with an honest smile, she could only take one drink mixed with an infamous amount of soda.

Her next shift would start in 6 hours, after all, and she had a feeling none of her clueless imposing friends would be leaving anytime soon.

"If you stick around for long enough, you might as well give me a ride to work." She gave him an accusing look, sinking further into the couch with a full plate.

"Come on, sweetheart, don't be like that." He has the decency to wince. "I bet you have a day off coming up. And then…" A beautiful teasing smirk made itself known in his face as he leaned close to whisper directly into her ear. "Then you can use your birthday gift to relax a little bit."

"You got me a birthday gift?" Nesta almost gasps, too stunned to even scoff at his shameless indecency.

The bottle of rum had been gift enough already. Hell, this stupid little gathering was a heartwarming gift in itself, even though she was exhausted and just wanted to disappear.

"Of course I did. I left it in your bed." There's some edge to his flirting smile and deep down, Nesta knows she should be a little worried about it. Cassian is a shameless, fearless, ruthless and limitless prick: this man cannot be trusted by any means.

"What is it?" She cocks an eyebrow, fingers twitching around her fork. "And what the hell were you doing in my bedroom?"

Perhaps wisely, the bastard elects to ignore both questions, sinking further into the couch like her, an arm coming around her shoulders playfully, smirking like the asshole he is - Nesta doesn't press. She'll see for herself soon enough.

Later than what her poor schedule could possibly allow, everyone leaves her apartment with cheery birthday wishes and smiling goodbyes - and she thanks them all truthfully. Nesta was tired as fuck, but the little company did a good job at lifting her spirits higher than what it could possibly be, given all. And it leaves her with mere 4 hours to sleep before another 12 hour shift - and a well deserved day off. So Nesta sucks it up, cleans the mess they had left in the kitchen and throws herself in bed - purposefully ignoring the rectangular white box carefully placed on the end of the bed, along with a suspicious pink note attached to the top lid.

And being a busy, resilient woman, Nesta didn't check it in the morning either. But again, she all but ran over her own feet to get ready and leave for work in time, just barely making it - only to be met with a guy with a broken cucumber up his ass and a woman who had found a colony of worms on the soles of her feet.

It was 5am.

When Nesta makes it home again, filthy and exhausted, she can't help but think to herself that it was a good thing she still hadn't opened Cassian's gift. Now, it could be something like a treat, after all the bullshit she had put up with in the past four days. In fact, it's all she can think about while riding the bus, then climbing the stairs (because the elevator breaks), during a nice cold shower and then dressing up in her favorite pajamas.

And she sits in bed with the box, not thinking much about the seemingly harmless _"enjoy, sweetheart"_ note that Cassian had attached to the lid - only to find that her birthday gift had been nothing other than a fucking _vibrador._

A wireless light pink thing with a slight curve; body safe silicone, some buttons in one of the ends.

Nesta's initial instinct is to grip the thing to haul it to the walls, but she thinks twice about it. The vibrador looked expensive as hell: she would have never spent any money with something like this - especially when her fingers were perfectly functional and free. But it seemed good; Nesta doesn't have to inspect the device for too long to figure it out. She was not about to break or throw it away. Cassian's gift _would_ have some use - but _how fucking dare he?_ Here she was, thinking highly of that son of a bitch, internalizing that maybe it was time they started acting civil with one another; but this? Cassian was crossing every damned line he couldn't even possibly cross anymore.

That bastard son of a bitch, fucking asshole, hulking brute, stupid goddamned pig.

And Nesta - Nesta is, somehow, _so much worse._

She'll put the gift to use.

.

When he never received a call or a text about the gift, Cassian assumed that Nesta either hadn't opened the box yet or had elected to pretend the vibrator never happened - which, honestly, was hilarious as fuck.

Although he wasn't purely just trying to take a piss at her - he would have simply ordered a 5 dollar vibrador from _Wish_ if that was the case. No, as much of an asshole as Cassian was, he wouldn't dare expose her to a cheap engine that was likely to burn while charging; because some part of him really hoped that she would actually use it. So, he did some research and went out of his way to find something nice for her: something safe and perfectly pleasurable, just in case. In the naive hope that despite his audacity, Nesta would decide to keep the vibrator for herself; that she'd come with a little piece of him.

Despite the swagger and the annoying mouth he couldn't help but run, Cassian was incredibly soft and entirely gone for her. He liked everything about Nesta, their banther included, and it wasn't hard to daydream about being in a relationship with her. Although they were both so deep into their characters, neither of them actually knew what to do to take a step towards what they really wanted.

And while that didn't happen… Their banther could surely go a little harder.

Since they hadn't talked at all since her birthday, Cassian was looking forward to seeing her again - almost considered calling first or actually going to her apartment, but a better opportunity came up when Rhysand called everyone for drinks in his - and Feyre's apartment. A perfectly good opportunity to see each other without looking like a creep.

As if giving her a vibrator hadn't been enough, at that. But he certainly still wanted a reaction from her, the fucking bastard.

And he had expected every and anything from her; even to not show up at all or send a restraining order his way. But when he turns up in his brother's apartment, Cassian had not expected Nesta to sit by his side on the couch and discreetly slide something into his pocket - a simple pendrive, something he only learned after making a bathroom trip to check it in secrecy.

It set a danger warning to his mind: Nesta was but a simple ER nurse, but the city was getting quite hectic these days. Being the captain of a police district, Cassian knew the hospital she worked at had been taking most of the wounded gangsters they had arrested over the past two weeks. And maybe something had happened; maybe she had seen or heard something from them. Maybe she had gotten hold of suspicious medical records or some fishy documents.

There was a vast ocean of possibilities and Cassian dreaded every single one of them - by the time he left Rhysand's apartment, he couldn't even remember the joke with Nesta's vibrator at all. She certainly didn't indulge him.

His heart is frantic with worry when he sits down in bed with his notebook, trained mind setting his organism into crisis mode. Cassian protects his notebook against clips and then checks the pendrive for malwares; descriptions and side informations before actually checking it's content - which is a single four minute video with an ordinary sequential title.

And it starts: a simple frame that mostly focuses on grey bed sheets and some of the white wall behind it - _her bed._ He can barely see a thing, with the shot close up, but there's just enough for him to recognize it. Then, a strange buzzing sound starts off-screen and _no, no, no, no, no,_ he knows exactly what that is. Cassian's blood pressure drops as his ears pick up on the sound, as _something_ vibrates and is muffled by _possibly_ getting in contact with something else. It doesn't take long: the video only lasts four minutes, after all, and Cassian hears her moaning before the first minute comes full cycle.

Those fucking sounds - his cock goes hard by voice command. He devours every single gasp, the sweet whining, the desperate whimpering. It's so obscene, so sensual, so hot - and most definitely her. Though he can't see a thing besides what the cropped frame will show him, that's definitely her voice and her fucking bedroom. It fills him with despair, pure agony, to hear her desperation through the notebook and not being able to reach out and make her come himself. Cassian wants to touch and taste and feel, but all he gets is the cropped image and the filthy sounds that can only be hers. And then hears her orgasm, a shameless groan that makes his toes curl; and if any of that wasn't proof enough, the video ends - but not before a vibrator is thrown over the bed sheets in frame.

The one he had given her.

End of the fucking video - 04:11 minutes of the most sensual torture Cassian had ever come to endure.

His cock is too hard for his own good and his phone is simply not close enough. Cassian has to unbutton his pants before getting up to find his phone and make a goddamned call for her - which she answers right before the second ring.

_"Nesta."_

_"Cassian."_ Voice impassive, unsurprised and unimpressed. The fucking bitch - he loved her.

 _"What the fuck, sweetheart?"_ He almost moans into the phone, leaning back on the wall and letting his free hand trail down to his cock. _"What the hell was that?"_

 _"Hm? I don't know what you're talking about."_ She's good, _almost_ convincing, but Cassian can catch the slight malice hidden in her tone.

 _"Oh, you don't know."_ He drags out, tightening his grip over the pained head. _"Do you want me to enlighten you? Did you like your birthday gift? Did you enjoy it?"_

_"Hm. I didn't see any gift. Don't you think you misplaced the box somewhere else?"_

If Cassian wasn't just so fucking gone, he might have been pissed off by her light game. But like this, touching himself and melting with her voice coming through the phone - he might as well enjoy it. What they were doing wasn't very decent, but at least it was mutual. Or what? Nesta had made _\- what the fuck -_ a damned sextape for him, as bashful and simple as it had been. What exactly could she possibly expect? For him to send a formal email expressing his gratitude?

 _"Don't think I did."_ He chuckles, letting his head fall back into the wall, mouth parted and eyes closed. This was getting too good, too fast. This fucking woman. _"Don't think I did. I remember putting it on your bed. I wrote a note for you, sweetheart."_

 _"Oh, I might have seen a note."_ She all but moans and Cassian swears that he's going to die. _"I think… Did you want me to enjoy myself?"_

 _"Hm, so bad... Did you, sweetheart?"_ Cassian gasps, thighs tensing as his lower body comes aflame. _"Did you feel good?"_

_"Hm. Did you watch what I gave you?"_

_"Of course I did."_

_"Then what do you think?"_

_"Beautiful."_ Cassian nods to himself, hips bucking into his hand. And he smiles wide, breathless and pleased, _"I know you did."_

A good fucking gift indeed. Cassian was either a genius or the luckiest motherfucker to ever live - though he certainly deserved no credit on the feat. His stupid joke might have turned entirely different if Nesta had been a slightly different woman, less spiteful and fire-breathing. It was a good thing his beloved was both a dragon and a shark, hard to scare and easy to bait; ferocious and hungry, the perfect match for his own unbreakable, fireproof self.

 _"I've never even kissed you."_ She murmurs on the other side, seemingly to herself, and Cassian chuckles again.

 _"You never made it easy, did you?"_ He shakes his head, pressing harder into the wall as his orgasm starts building up. _"Let's change that. Tell me you're home."_

_"I am. But I have an early shift tomorrow."_

And Cassian smirks to himself, just as pleased with her answer as if she had invited him over. _Not enough time to fuck you. Not hard enough, at least._ He couldn't have possibly asked for something better.

_"Tell me when you're free, then."_

.

Nesta's mother was a classic, elegant, conservative woman. And though her death had caused so much pain for their entire family, Nesta was happy that she'd never have to find a cover-up story for how her relationship with Cassian - who was surely the man of her dreams - had begun.

Sex toys first, homemade porn second, phone sex third and only then, their very first date.

They had talked to each other during the week - not a single word about the video, much less the call. Those were locked in secrecy inside their minds; not a single soul would ever hear a thing about them. But Cassian wasn't someone she wanted to hide, though she had absolutely no idea of what to do next. Usually people went on dates first, so things became confusing when your first (and second and third) step was to indirectly fuck each other in quite obscene ways.

So when Cassian called again later that night, slow and relaxed, asking about how her week had gone, Nesta indulged him. Somehow, they had common subjects from work and even their diverging traits always fell close in taste. Talking to him was easy, besides, no one ever asked her about work or how she was doing - not that she was proud to talk about how often people came to the emergency rooms with vegetables up their asses and worm related diseases.

If she could broadcast a message to the world, it would have been a plea for people to stop drinking tap water, eating dirty or raw food and walking barefoot. And perhaps to start buying vibrators instead of fucking food.

They were sure as hell worth it.

Though Nesta hadn't bought hers, it eventually came her way - and she would have never considered playing with something from the fridge. There was a limit for desperation and lunacy.

She had already used her vibrator three times: twice in bed and once in the bathtub. Whenever she thought too much about Cassian, which was quite frequently and inevitable as the week progressed. Though they had both eased on the sexual themes, the teasing really was a part of their characters. It kept going back and forth and sometimes Nesta felt as if she was too hot inside her body; she'd either take care of herself or implode.

They were supposed to go on a date. It had come up on the phone, when Cassian called back to them never kissing before - the topic that she had started, for one. And what it implied: if they were going to do this, then it should be serious. Because as strange as they both were, their attraction was something too exquisite to dispose off after a quick fuck. So it was a date: Nesta had chosen a place and Cassian had planned for the night. Neither aimed for perfect or spotless: they were simply trying to make things a little normal, even though the two of them were hardly ordinary.

But then, Cassian committed the terrible mistake of going to her apartment to pick her up. Hair tied in a bun, wearing a black button up and that one cologne he _knew_ she liked so much - and when Nesta opens the door for him, feet bare and still trying to zip up the back of her dress...

They were never going anywhere.

She was in his arms after a single look, drawn into a hungry kiss and likely to swallow each other down even before Cassian had come to cross the doorstep.

His torso was hard under his shirt - Nesta had never been with a man like him and she found that while new, it definitely wasn't a problem. She didn't mind being carried back to her bedroom or how it felt like she was touching a god. But it was an even match, since Cassian was so lost in the holy hues of her body, he couldn't even think straight. And she was feral: nowhere near delicate or shy, like it would have been expected from the _prude._ Nesta was a woman to be approached with belic power and green fire. No bullshit: Cassian pressed her into the bedroom door, gripped her thighs, her ass, licked her breast over her dress, pressed his hard cock tightly in between her legs and groaned.

Nesta wailed like a fucking cat and pushed back, pulled into his bound hair until it was messy and free, bit his ears, rubbed herself over his waist and dared him to keep up.

Both a dragon and a shark - Cassian knew he was about to get the best pussy of his entire life even before stripping down; and he'd better make it good for her.

"How did you like your toy, sweetheart?" Cassian sits on the bed after setting her on the floor before him, his chest heaving as he tries to undo the buttons of his shirt. "Was it good for you?"

"Scared you won't live up to it?" Nesta smiles like the demon she is, stepping out of her tight dress and quickly moving to straddle his thighs - and _what the fuck,_ those thighs. Cassian was perfect to sit on - she'd be eager to try and ride - and he takes it like a champion when she lowers her center right over his bulge and starts rocking herself against him.

She wore red lingerie for him, the witch, and Cassian was certain she knew that it was his favorite color. A dark deep shade, like blood and wine; tainting a beautiful delicate structure that he wanted to rip open - something that he'd never actually do. He wasn't that much of an asshole. But it was inevitable to marvel, how the soft fragile fabric managed to hold her big breasts up, panties helplessly hugging her pussy and stretch marks like it was going to burst.

No, Nesta Archeron was no delicate small thing. Nesta was a woman so sensual, she was coming out of her skin: there was not enough space in her body to contain that much power.

Cassian felt blessed for the honor of witnessing her magic. His hands were almost unsteady to touch, losing himself in sight and feeling. It was incredibly easy, with her.

His shirt was off, then her bra - and the illyrian fought not to bury his face on her breasts like a fool. He took one of her nipples on his mouth instead, licking around the halo, sucking and nibbling until she whined for him. It made his blood run hot in a way that he couldn't stand still: Cassian had to move, turn, do something. Which is why he pushes her back on the bed while standing up to get rid of his boots, his pants. And Nesta moaned when he came back over her, entirely naked, pressing himself over her lace clad pussy.

It's a familiar sound that ignites about a thousand memories in his poor mind. Cassian had watched that video way too many times. And still, it was unbelievable and impossible to assimilate the sounds from his notebook to what he could actually hear in real life.

Not when having her right in front of him was incomparably better.

The red lace against him, wet; Cassian could only dream of what Nesta would feel like under her lingerie. The delicate thing: he feels Nesta through the fabric, delicate flesh warm and soft under his fingers and _he had dreamed about it for so long._ His sinful hand in between her legs, her lips locked to his while rutting against each other in bed - the filthiest, most delicious thing that they could have ever wanted. They hadn't kissed before: but it clicks, gentle and yet greedy lips that meet in almost synchronized agreement.

Cassian numbs himself on the feeling until she's pressing harder into him. And they take her panties off slow - not because Cassian is that big on sensuality, but because he's terrified of tearing it apart. Those are some thin straps holding together scraps of lace. The illyrian isn't necessarily obtuse, he knows how expensive those things could be; but it happily goes into the floor with no casualties. Finally given a chance, Cassian breathes in her scent like a dog; watches her wet folds with hooded eyes like a man too high in his euphoria to stand straight. He bows until his lips touch her soft inner thighs, her stomach, using his fingers to spread her wider for his tongue.

Nesta would be lying if she said that nothing had ever been so pleasurable - she had spent a holy week with an immaculate waterproof vibrator that could go in 6 different frequencies, after all. But the big difference here was that a piece of silicon wasn't nearly as hot as Cassian's mouth. Nothing could ever feel like his tongue; and it couldn't nib, couldn't suck, couldn't lick and definitely didn't blow her clit cold after sucking on it until her entire body shook. Because _that_ was exactly what he did and besides being so mind blown her eyes rolled back, Nesta was impressed - not all men out there ate pussy like they enjoyed it. The world was in shortage of those and before Cassian, she had never met one.

Now _this_ was new. If Nesta held back his curls and rode his face; if she looked into his eyes as she came, watching how tightly his mouth was connected to her; thinking about all of the things she'd let him do after this; no, nothing was as good as this. She wanted to ride, to suck his cock, be fucked with her face down into the mattress; hell, she wouldn't mind going down missionary like a well behaved girl, if that's what Cassian wanted from her (he didn't).

Nesta was turned on her stomach when he came back up and she had to smile into the sheets - exactly what she wanted. They could make pretty love another day: it had been almost two weeks of taunting and torturing and teasing each other, Nesta wanted to be fucked _or else._

Cassian pushed inside her without a warning, though she had been expecting it, and was met with a moan as she held harder onto the mattress. Tight fit, but grounding and good; the sensual sway of his hips had Nesta whimpering, both pleased and eager for more - he was playing with her, that motherfucker. With a gentle hand getting hold of her hair right from the scalp and the other curled on her hip, he moved. Os swayed, danced, grounded in. Cassian fucked like a cat until she was too far gone on the feeling to hold herself back; crying into the sheets for him to go harder or let her come -

And she was right: Cassian also thought that there was nothing quite as good as this.

He indulged her at some point, when his chest started burning and the air stopped coming inside his lungs. Then, he went hard: the hand he had placed around her hips snaked down until his fingers found her pussy again - and with her body licked by white flamed pleasure, eyes blind and thighs strained, Nesta tensed and cried. _Too close, too fast, too hard,_ she pushed herself up into a sitting position, back against Cassian's chest as he drove into her - nothing, nothing, _absolutely nothing_ as good as this.

Nesta swears she sees god when she comes.

Time slowed, vision gone white - or silver, holy hues no mortal could ever glimpse of heaven - she had barely noticed Cassian coming inside her, his breathing so erratic it was close to a growl. And they sat just like that for several minutes, both trying to breathe and make their brains work again - while Nesta had found heaven, Cassian had stumbled upon the devil herself and they were newly entirely devoted to each other.

But they eventually have to move, Cassian pulling out with a hiss and sitting back on his heels, arms curled around Nesta's waist and letting her sit over his thighs.

"Too late for dinner?" He has the nerve to ask, and she laughs into his neck because there is absolutely no joke in it.

Although… All the good exercise can leave a poor woman famished.

"What if we order food instead? I still have that bottle of rum." She angles her head on his shoulder, trying to look into his eyes for confirmation. "I promise I'll be nice to you."

Hazel briefly shifts into gold, Cassian's eyes glinting with mischief as he kisses her still flushed ears and hums. Some part of him still can't comprehend what he had just done with her; some part that had barely gotten over the video Nesta had made and sometimes still wondered if it was actually her. And he wants more: tension gone, now he wants the feelings she insists to hide and then all the simple love he knows she can give. The greedy fucking bastard.

"That's perfect, sweetheart."

  
  



End file.
